Burning On My Skin
by Libquedation
Summary: My skin burns when their eyes look at me, freezing me into stone. I cannot move, but I can observe. And one day, I see him. He is always there, and I will always see him, but he can never see me...A story about a weeping angel and how a single human changes her for the better.


The light shone bright, my skin that is not skin feeling the wet leave it, slowly at first, then faster and faster until my skin was stone dry.

Stone.

Hands raised to the sides, face raised up to the heavens, watching as the sun rolled past. Humans walked by me, their eyes glancing up, never leaving. There was always someone, somebody, some pair of eyes upon my form that kept me like this, frozen. I cannot move, not while their small, beady orbs flashing over my skin, feeling like fire and ice.

Standing guard at the entrance to a graveyard, how comical. A graveyard sitting right on the edge of one of the busiest streets in Manhattan, the city that never sleeps.

The ones behind me, lying still in their graves, they are the ones who are asleep. The only resting ones in the city that burns, the light never leaving my skin, eyes always upon my form. There is some peace at night, the chance to stretch my wings, spread my arms. But I must be on my perch right away, for there are always eyes, peering out into the distance, catching gaze of my skin.

My damned skin.

I wonder how many of my sisters have sent the ones that I guard to their graves. Peaceful deaths, necessary deaths; necessary so we can survive, live on as a species.

It is not our fault that they cannot resist blinking. They must, otherwise their beady orbs will surely dry up and fall out, in which case we would send them back in time anyway.

Puny little humans.

So many flaws.

The only flaw I possess is my skin. My wretched skin, keeps me frozen in time, making humans have power over me. Power they should not ever have over me!

…

I do not know how long I have been here. Ages, moons, years. I cannot know, or fathom. I have sent another back through the days, landing where I do not know.

They stared for a moment, snapping a photograph of me...and then they blinked. I could not control my hands reaching out, wrapping around their necks for a moment before sending them backwards in their own existence.

Together.

A concept I shall never grasp or understand. Togetherness? What can that ever be to someone whose very skin freezes when seen. I am trapped in a body that cannot ever move when in the presence of open eyes.

I am forever trapped in an existence where the only other thing I shall know is myself.

…

He is new. He walks by every day, twice, once when the sun begins to rise, again when it begins to set. Halfway between, he sits down on the bench in front of my graveyard, eating a lunch and reading the newspapers. Two consecutive days he does not come at those times, merely walking by later at night, following the crowds to the noise.

He never looks. Never stares. Maybe his eyes skirt across my skin, but they never soak me in, his eyes never burn. Bright eyes, blue as the sky, hidden behind black framed rims.

I do not know why I have begun angling my eyes downwards in the mornings.

I have no need to want to watch him as he walks by.

…

Nathan. His name is Nathan. A woman ran up to him this afternoon, the sun higher in the sky than usual when he walked by again. A woman with yellow hair, bright as the sun. Her eyes took me in, burning my skin, and as soon as they vanished, my lips curled up faster than ever. She was interrupting his walk, a walk that calms him. Shoulders relax as he nears my graveyard every time, every single time.

But now, they tense up, harshly, he spins around and glares at the woman with the yellow hair.

Words are shared, people jostling by their argument, a few glances reaching me, searing across skin, my lip curling more and more with every relief.

They sit at the bench, his bench, talking, less angrily. His shoulders relax and my lip does too, a little more with each relief.

They leave when it gets dark, Nathan and the yellow haired female, their hands intertwined and all of a sudden my mouth opens, screaming unhappily in their direction before I even know what is happening. As soon as there is no more burning, I stop screaming. My sisters deserve peace, not having to listen to me.

I do not even know why I am screaming.

…

Time has passed. Nathan's hair has grey in it, but he still passes my way five consecutive days in a row, twice each day. He does not eat lunch at the bench however, he no longer gazes into my graveyard. I have nothing to watch now.

The yellow haired woman is with him on the days where he only leaves once now. Their hands are usually touching, or his arms are around her. A few times, their lips have touched in front of me, in the most intimate way, and every time there is relief from the burning, I scream, scream louder than anyone has heard before.

My sisters do not understand. They can never understand. I don't even understand.

Tonight he returned with a gang of other men with him, jostling him. This time, my fingers curled, wanting to stop their harm upon him, Nathan.

The smell of liquor on their breath filled the air as they wandered past my perch, one passing dangerously close to my outstretched hand.

A little too close…

My skin burns harshly and I freeze, my hunger gnawing at my insides. I have not fed in a long time, eyes always upon my form and never leaving.

…

Nathan has not walked by for many suns.

I have fed however. A young woman, weeping as she looked into my graveyard, way too late at night. There was no one to watch out for her as she blinked, my hands reaching out so fast that there was no hope. My hunger has resided, but I still crave more.

Where is he?

…

Nathan has returned.

He walks by now, five suns in a row, twice each day. Every once in a while, he will eat lunch at the bench in front of me, looking into the graveyard while he reads a novel, a newspaper.

He never looks at me.

And I never want him to.

If I sent him back, if I fed upon him, I would never be able to see him. His dark hair shining in the sunlight, glistening in the rain, bright eyes hiding behind the rims, the spring in his step in the late walk, the slower shuffle as the sun rises. The happiness that thrums through the air on the two days where he walks by me once, yellow hair in tow.

She has grown round around the belly.

I know what has happened.

Something I can never experience.

Not ever.

The touch of someone else's skin on mine. I shall never be able to feel, nothing besides the burn of eyes upon my own skin, my stone skin.

…

Many moons since I saw Nathan last. I literally crave for him, even turning my head at the approximate time that he should be walking up and down the street in front of my graveyard. But there is no glimpse of him.

Now, I scream for a very different reason.

I have been abandoned.

…

He walked beneath me tonight, following a crowd. There is much more grey in his hair, lines upon his face, framing his bright eyes. So much sadder now. A boy who is taller than he is stands next to him, bright yellow hair and eyes as blue as the sky.

There is sadness at the funeral, and I turn my head just enough to watch him, watch him as he cries for his wife, the yellow haired woman who bore him his son.

Inside of me, my heart goes out to him, my stone heart encased in stone skin that blazes with fire and ice when they look upon me. I want to reach out, touch Nathan's hand, not to feed, but to comfort.

Me, me! I am always here, I can never leave you, I am stone! I am forever, and I shall never leave this perch as long as I can see you walk by.

…

He visits often, sometimes walking right underneath my skirt, or my hands. Once, I swore he touched my wing.

The yellow haired boy followed him a few times, but never comes anymore.

Nathan comes once every seven days, flowers in his hands. The sky grows darker as he comes, the rain begins to fall, turning into snow.

But he still comes.

Comes to visit her grave, an above ground tomb. White marble, it shall always shine radiant among my graveyard. His flowers add color, and I yearn to touch his hand as he cries, bent over her grave, fingers tracing her name.

How I yearn…

…

Tonight is different.

It is dark, cloudy, rain pouring down. There is no burning tonight, but I feel as if I move, I shall crack and break.

It has been six dark nights since Nathan came to the yellow hair's grave. He returns tonight, the flowers clutched in his hand wilting from the raindrops, the colors still bright.

He stayed for a while, until the darkness had reached its peak, the amount of humans walking in front of me at their least.

He needs to stay in the graveyard until morning.

I will not be able to control myself.

He cannot notice me tonight.

Nathan walks out from the gate, looking left and then right.

His eyes look at my perch, then go upwards to me.

I freeze, his stare burning.

He walks in front of me, staring up. My eyes go into is, the sadness so clear.

"You have always been here. You never move. I know you will never leave. I do not have much longer in this world; my broken heart cannot sustain it. I have no reason to live, my son is gone; he left the city. Too many memories, but now he is making his own with his own family. I have no one here. Soon, I will join Andrea in your graveyard, but until then, you watch out for her, please. Protect her, watch over her. I cannot come back."

If I was not a creature of stone, tears would have flowed down my face as he finished speaking, tears in his eyes.

But my tears would have been for something else.

He blinked.

Against my own will, my hands shot forward, caressing his face, his soft, lined face, a feeling of warmth shooting through me before I could fathom what was happening, and then he was gone.

The hunger was fulfilled, stated for now, but there was an emptiness within, my mouth transforming into a scream.

There was no burning, and I turned, seeing not only one, but two white marble tombs, side by side. One had wilted, brightly colored flowers at the top, the other did not.

The other one was not as bright, not as fresh.

A horrible screech left me, my nearby sisters responding in kind, wondering what had happened to leave me so distraught.

There was no burning, and then I was at the graves, the names shining brightly through the rain and the night.

Andrea Jamie Grant.

Nathan Michael Grant.

Another shriek and then my body was across his tomb, draped across, my fingers tracing his name.

Burning wracked across my skin and I froze, and I knew I would never leave this place again.

The hunger inside of me was nothing, _nothing _compared to the emptiness inside of my heart.

I would never see Nathan again.

He would never walk along my pathway, never again. I had nothing to watch for, nothing to _live _for.

I would stay here, for the rest of eternity, protecting him and his wife, his devotion, the one who I could never be.

But I can do what he told me to do, the one time his eyes looked at me, the one time he spoke to me.

I will do that, and maybe if I do that, perhaps the emptiness will not be so heavy inside of me. I can honor his request, honor his life. I have fed my last time on the one I never wanted to feed upon. And now, I will remain a true statue, forever, doing what he asked.

Protecting what he loved.

So now I will protect who I love.

…

**This story is something I have never done before. I feel like I ended up rambling a lot, especially considering I never write this late or this tired :P but I hope you few readers who will read it actually enjoy it and maybe leave a review or two! Thank you (: **


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